Love and Other Bruises
by foreverbm
Summary: A different look at the 'steriod' storyline....what if Michael had told Ben to leave instead of threatening to inject himself


I glanced at the clock. 6pm and no Ben. So much for his promise to cook tonight.

I looked at the blank pages in front of me, which should be covered with ideas for the next issue of Rage and knew, once again, I would have to explain to Justin why I had nothing for him.

I put it aside knowing that if we wanted to eat I would have to be the one to cook.

I walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge, scanning the sparse contents, finally grabbing some carrots and potatoes and throwing them into the sink.

I grabbed a knife and began absent-mindedly peeling them. It took a few minutes to register that the sharp pain I was feeling was due to a jagged cut across the palm of my hand. Blood was dripping rapidly into the water, turning it a cloudy pink.

"Fuck!"

I reached for a towel, wrapping it around my hand, trying to stop the stem of blood, but it continued to seep through.

"Fuck!"

Trying to hold the towel in place I began opening and closing drawers, searching for a band-aid, finally giving up what was proving to be a futile search.

I headed to the bathroom. No fucking band-aids. Shit!

I vaguely remembered seeing some in our bedroom a week ago. My hand was tingling and beginning to ache. I kept it wrapped firmly in the towel. Blood, especially mine, not being one of my favorite sights.

Finally, after searching numerous drawers, hampered by the towel and starting to feel slightly light headed I spotted a packet in our bottom drawer which looked promising.

Reaching in to grab it, I let out a loud yelp as something sharper than the knife which had already caused enough damage dug into my hand.

"Fuck! Shit! Now what!

I pulled out the offending object, my blood running cold as a needle glistened in front of me.

Cold chills ran through my body. I took a backward step and sank onto the bed.

I sat there, thoughts whirling through my head, my hand aching, the towel now a deep red from my blood and felt myself start to shake.

The slamming of the front door made me jump and I heard Ben call out my name.

My mouth was dry as I tried to form an answer and gave up. He would find me eventually.

"Michael?"

I looked up at the sound of his voice. I could tell he'd just come from the gym, his hair was still slightly damp and his body had the work-out sheen about it. He filled the door way, muscled and toned, his body as he wanted it to be. No sign of weakness anywhere.

I wanted the other body back, perfect and much more gentler.

"Have you used it?"

A confused look crossed his face.

"HAVE YOU FUCKING USED IT!?"

My hand shook as I held the needle in front of me and realization finally hit him.

"What happened?"

"I cut my hand on a knife and was looking for a band-aid"

"And….?"

"And what! I fucking found this!"

"Michael…."

"What the fuck's the matter with you. I am bleeding in case you haven't noticed. This!" I jabbed the needle in the air "Is full of that shit you pump into your body"

"Michael…calm down"

"Tell me! Have you fucking used it!"

"No!"

I felt air swoosh back into my lungs and my heart stopped hammering in my chest.

He took a step towards me, hand outstretched.

"Give it to me"

"This has got to stop!"

"What has?"

"This!"

I threw the needle onto the floor, grinding it into the carpet with my foot.

He stood there, calm and composed and I began to wonder if anything was actually getting through to him.

"I love you Ben But this is not you. This shit is turning you into someone who scares me sometimes. I've always accepted the fact I could get infected, no matter how careful we are. Nothing will ever change my thoughts about that." I took a deep breath and stood, eye balling him "But this…." I looked down at the crushed needle "I will not accept"

"Michael…let's talk about it"

"No! We've talked before. I talk. You listen. Then you just go and do it again. Enough is enough"

The light-headedness hit me again and I sat down. I wasn't sure if it was due to the blood loss or the helplessness of the situation. I had tried everything to get Ben to talk to me, but he kept withdrawing further and further into the world of steroids. I wanted the Ben I had fallen in love with the moment I saw him back. I just didn't know if I had the strength to fight anymore.

He sat and took my hand, carefully unfolding the towel. The flow of blood had stemmed, drying to a dark red.

"We need to get you cleaned up"

I nodded wearily, the anger and hurt I had felt earlier fading. It was just too much effort to keep it up.

He left the room, coming back minutes later with a bowl of warm water and wash cloth and began his ministrations. Every now and then he looked up, his eyes meeting mine. They reflected pain but behind the darkness I could still see the love and I held onto that.

His hands were gentle, and soon all that was visible was a sharp jagged cut.

He carefully covered it with the band-aid and smiled at me.

"See…all better"

I gave him a weak smile, but knew it would take more than a band-aid to fix what was wrong with us.

I didn't want to start the argument again, knowing it would just go round in circles as it always did, leaving us both exhausted by words that cut us sharper than a knife ever could.

But things couldn't continue the way they were. It was destroying us bit by bit

"Michael….I'm sorry this happened. You had every right to be angry and I promise I will be more careful from now on"

I looked at him, a stunned look on my face

"Are you saying that not even this is enough to make you realize what you are doing, what the consequences could have been!"

"We've talked about this before…the advantages are outweighing the disadvantageous. I've told you it is something I need to do, I thought you understood that"

"You need to pump this shit into your body to make you what…..feel invincible?"

"I know what I am doing"

"You are destroying yourself and us, it's as simple as that!"

"Michael….listen to me….. please!"

I knew if I gave in now he would convince me once again that everything would be alright. He would offer the same excuses I had been listening to since Paul died and he decided that the same fate was going to befall him.

He couldn't or wouldn't see that he was nothing like Paul. He had always taken care of himself, done everything right but his mindset was such that no words from me would change it and I knew it was decision time.

"Ben, I have been here for you, waiting for you to talk to me but you continuously shut me out. I understand, as much as I can, how you are feeling, but steroids are not the answer and if you can't see that, then… I really don't know what else I can say"

He opened his mouth to speak but I held up my hand, knowing if I didn't say what I was feeling, the moment would pass and our lives would just drift until the next time something happened and by then maybe we would be completely beyond repair.

I believed we were worth fighting for, because God knows I loved him, I just hoped he felt the same way.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is… you have to make a decision. I can't live like this, I feel like an abused partner…"

"Michael…..I would never…."

"I don't mean physically but mentally. I am scared to say anything, never knowing what your reaction will be, the silences, the lack of affection, the lonely hours while you are at the gym are wearing me down. I thought you would turn to me but you turned to steroids instead"

I looked at him, his eyes showed no emotion, the shutters had come down again and I knew my words weren't getting through to him. He was hearing them, but he wasn't listening to them.

"Michael…."

I took a deep breath, summoning up the strength I needed to say what needed to be said.

"You have to decide…" I could hear the shake in my voice and hesitated for a moment before finally managing to continue, hoping like hell I wouldn't break down, because if that happened I would be lost. "You have to decide between me and the steroids."

I watched as a spark of anger flickered in his eyes, as if to say, how dare I ask him this.

His hand reached out for mine. I pulled away, not wanting, but desperately needing his touch, but not like this.

I knew I was holding my breath waiting for his answer, our love and our life would be decided in that instant by his words.

His voice was cold and had a hard edge to it when he finally answered

"Michael….. times have been rough lately I know but…."

My eyes met his.

"Are going to stop using it?"

Deathly and unwanted silence.

Words were not needed. I had my answer.

"I want you to go"

My voice was barely above a whisper but the shocked look on his face told me that finally something I had said had reached him.

"Michael…you don't mean that…we can work this out…."

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

"Michael…baby…I love you…."

His voice, those words were almost my undoing. It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to crumble and give in.

"Just go Ben….if…if you decide that what we have is worth salvaging…then we will talk again"

Without a backward look I stood and walked from the room.

I half expected him to follow me, to offer more reassurances and excuses but my footsteps were the only ones to be heard in the quietness of the apartment.

I grabbed my coat, swearing loudly when I banged my hand on the door as I reached to open it. Tiny spots of blood were seeping through the band-aid but I ignored them as I closed the door behind me.

I trudged down the steps. The street noise startled me and I hesitated, with no idea what to do next

I ended up where I knew I would.

I thumped on the loft door, stamping my feet to get rid of the icy feeling that the cold was sending through my body.

Finally it opened.

"Mikey!"

My eyes quickly scanned the room behind him.

"Where's Justin?"

"Visiting Daphne"

I walked past him, relishing the warmth of the loft and felt myself start to slowly thaw out.

"You want a drink?"

Typical Brian. No questions but the obvious answer for everything.

"No…thanks"

He poured himself one and dropped down onto the sofa, reaching for a cigarette, his eyes watching me closely.

"So…what are you doing here...Trouble in paradise?"

I expected a smirk to accompany his words but for once it was missing. He knew me well enough to know when to leave the domestically jokes aside.

"Yeah…something like that. I told Ben to choose between me and the steroids…"

"And seeing you are here…and not at home fucking your brains out…I don't have to ask what his decision was"

The warnings that Brian had given me weeks ago came back to haunt me. I had listened to them but chose to ignore them. Any decisions made had to be mine alone.

My hand was beginning to ache again and what felt like a hundred hammers were starting to do a tap dance in my head.

"Got any aspirin?"

Brian walked to the bathroom, stopping by the kitchen to grab a glass of water, before handing me two pills. I swallowed them fast, hoping they would quickly work their magic. I handed the glass back to him and he finally noticed by hand.

"What happened?"

"Cut myself on a knife while getting dinner ready"

"Haven't I told you cooking is a dangerous business. Why do you think take out was invented"

I couldn't help but let a small smile twitch at my lips.

He took the glass from me and led me to the couch, sitting me down then disappeared again, coming back minutes later with a damp wash cloth and band-aid.

I grimaced when he pulled the blood soaked band-aid off but the coolness of the water as he wiped away the fresh blood was soothing and I slowly felt myself begin to relax.

I was grateful for the time he was giving me to compose myself.

The questions would begin soon enough and I knew they would be relentless.

"You going to tell me what happened?"

I took a deep breath and began to recount the last hours, haltingly at first then all the words just tumbled out of me.

Brian sat there, not saying a word until I finished with the moment I ended up at his loft.

"You made the right decision"

"I know but I still feel like I have some how abandoned him when he really needs me"

"You've given him more than enough chances to talk and he hasn't taken them. There was nothing else you could do. You had to think of yourself."

I knew Brian was right but it still hurt.

"I didn't want it to come to this. I love him."

"He knows that but what happens now is up to him."

"What if he decides the steroids are more important than our life and future together.

If that happens, we both end up losers"

Brian looked at me and I could see a touch of impatience in his eyes.

"Mikey…enough ok. You've both made your decisions, nothing can change that. You can't put your life on hold waiting for him to finally wake up to what he's doing to himself"

A feeling of sadness washed over me. We had so much going for us and if it ended up like this it made me feel like a failure. No matter how many times I told myself Ben had made the ultimate decision I knew I would still feel I had let him down. I could only hope he would get the help he needed. If he wasn't prepared to do that, this was the beginning of the end for the hopes and dreams we had for a future together. Fuck Paul! Fuck this disease! Fuck needles filled with unseen poison!

"Mikey….you want to stay here tonight?"

Brian's voice pulled me back to the present.

"No…. I'll go home"

"I'll drive you"

Brian stood, grabbing a sweater.

"No. I'll walk. The fresh air will do me good"

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Call me when you get home….ok?"

He pulled me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me. I let myself relax in his embrace, grateful as always that I had him to come to at times like these.

Tears were threatening but I would keep them for when I was alone.

"Thanks"

"What for?"

"For not saying 'I told you so'"

He grinned.

"You're….."

"Pathetic…I know!"

We walked towards the door. I pulled it open to come face to face with Justin.

"Michael!"

"Hey Justin"

"What are you …"

He stopped mid sentence and I perceived a slight shake of the head from Brian next to me.

"I call you ok"

"Make sure you do!"

I gave them both a half hearted smile and headed to the lift.

The cold air hit me as I walked out of his building and I pulled my coat tighter around me, digging my hands deeper into my pockets and began the lonely walk home.

I finally reached our street and glanced up at our apartment. It appeared to be in complete darkness.

I shivered, not sure if it was due to the cold night air or the thought of walking into an empty apartment.

The streets were still alive with people. Laughing. Singing. Talking. Going out. Coming home. Groups. Couples. Families.

Fuck! I had to stop this.

Ben's decision had been his but I had been the one to give him the ultimatum.

The situation I was in was caused by my own actions.

I needed to accept that and live with the consequences.

I tramped up the stairs, my cold fingers finding the key and unlocking the door. I flicked on the light. Nothing looked different to when I had left.

I shrugged off my coat and walked to our bedroom, pushing the door open slowly, and hit the light switch.

I wasn't sure what I expected to find.

Ben asleep in bed perhaps.

I let out a slightly hysterical laugh. Exhaustion was beginning to take its toll and not just on my body.

Drawers were half open and empty. I glanced at the closet. Empty.

It was if he had never been here.

I let out a sigh

I grabbed a t-shirt and headed to the bathroom, turned on the shower and undressed as steam filled the room.

The hot water felt wonderful on my chilled body and I stood under it until it had almost run cold. I dressed hurriedly, filled a glass with water, grabbed the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet, subconsciously ignoring the empty shelves which usually held Ben's meds and headed back to the bedroom and climbed into bed, pulling the covers around me.

My last thought before I fell asleep was I had forgotten to call Brian.

The shrill ringing of the phone woke me from a deep sleep. I fumbled in the dark, knocking something off the bedside cabinet before finding the receiver.

"Hello"

"Mikey?"

"Yeah"

"You ok…you didn't call me!"

I sat up, realizing instantly that was a bad idea. My head ached and my mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. I took a sip of water before answering Brian.

"Sorry Brian…I forgot"

"Ok. You want me to come over…bring something for breakfast?"

The thought of food made me feel nauseous and I wondered if I was coming down with something.

"No thanks."

"Mikey….you ok?"

Am I ok.

I couldn't help but let a laugh escape at his words.

Waking up in an empty bed, hearing nothing but silence in our apartment, knowing my thoughts would be on Ben every minute of the day.

Wondering if I had made the biggest mistake of my life giving him that choice.

Being naïve enough to believe he would chose me over the steroids.

"Yeah Brian…I'm ok"

I heard him sigh and I knew he didn't believe me but let it go….for now anyways.

"I'll call you later…and remember, you did the right thing."

I hung up, trying to decide if I wanted to leave the security of my bed and face the outside world.

The clock ticked over to 7am and I knew that hiding away was not an option.

I needed to get the store open.

If Ben didn't come back, a thought which sent a sick feeling through my body, I would need the money.

I gingerly climbed out of bed, knowing sudden movements were something I would have to avoid until the pounding in my head cleared.

I opened the curtains to a grey day which matched my mood perfectly.

The street was busy even at this early hour.

The hustlers, who seemed to have taken up residence in our street, were making their way to wherever they spent their day after a nights work.

People everywhere, all with some purpose ahead of them for the day.

I gave myself a mental shake. I had to stop this train of thought and get on with my life.

Ben would come to his senses, deep down I knew that. I just prayed it wouldn't take too long. I wasn't sure how many days and even worse, lonely nights, I could handle.

I moved away from the window and gave the room a quick tidy up, picked up the bottle of aspirin from the floor, threw two of them down with a large gulp of water and made my way to the bathroom. The shower cleared my head slightly, just a dull ache behind my eyes remained. I dressed quickly, put my coat on, found my keys and headed out the door.

The rain started about half a block from the store and by the time I arrived I was drenched and regretting my decision to leave the comfort of my bed.

The morning dragged. Customers came and went. I worked on auto-pilot, answering questions, stocking shelves, my mind filled with thoughts of Ben.

I'd picked up the phone a dozen times, my fingers poised to dial his number but always stopping at the last moment.

At midday I put up the closed sign, ignoring the irate knocks on the door.

I picked up my cell, finally finding the courage to punch in his number, holding my breath, not knowing what I would say if he answered. All I got was a recorded voice saying _'this number is unreachable at the moment'_

Where the fuck was he!

I was really starting to worry now. I knew at the back of my mind I had the thought that he would just turn up, tell me he had stopped using them and our life would gradually return to normal.

How fucking stupid was I!

He had been using that shit for weeks.

I knew you couldn't just stop with the click of your fingers. He needed help and I just hoped he had found somewhere or someone who could give it to him.

I just wished it had been me he had turned to.

I fiddled with my cell, another thought of finding him coming into my head.

I punched in the number of Carnegie-Mellon and waited patiently for a reply.

A bright and bubbly voice finally answered and when I asked to be connected with Mr Bruckner there was a moment's silence.

The voice was less bubby when it finally replied. _"I'm sorry, Mr Bruckner is on extended leave and is not contactable at the moment"_

I probably mumbled a thank you before hanging up.

The tears I had held back finally fell and I put my head in my hands and sobbed.

Loud hammering on the door bought me back to the present. I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand as I walked over and peered out.

Brian was standing there. I could see his lips moving but his voice was drowned out by the noise of the traffic.

I turned the lock and stepped aside as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

"I guess you haven't heard from Ben?"

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak, knowing tears were once again not far away.

"I could fucking kill him for putting you through this!"

"It's not his fault!"

"Stop defending him Mikey. He made the choice to use that stuff"

I sighed. I knew that no words would make Brian understand. He could only see what Ben's actions were doing to me not the reasons behind them.

But whatever Brian's thoughts were I was just pleased he was here for me at the moment.

This was just the first day of what I knew were going to be many for me to get through alone.

The knowledge that deep in my heart I knew Ben would come back to me would keep me going.

"Brian…..you know how much Paul's death affected him. It made him really think about his own mortality and he didn't like what he saw."

"Mikey…"

"No listen to me! I hated that he shut me out….but in some ways I understand. I'm not trying to make excuses for him…. He keeps his emotions to himself, it's his way. Me, I make sure everyone knows how I'm feeling….whether they want to or not….but that's not Ben."

"He hurt you Mikey…and that's what I can't accept"

"I can. That's what counts. I love him, nothing, no matter what, will ever change that"

Brian looked at me and I held his gaze. He shrugged and wrapped his arms around me.

"Whatever Mikey….I just want you to be happy. The Professor and I don't always see eye to eye but I believe he loves you. He made his decision and you made yours….and I doubt he is any more happier about the way things worked out than you are"

I reached up and gave Brian a kiss.

"Thanks" I felt the tears threaten again.

"No tears Mikey…you know how I feel about tears!"

I couldn't help but grin at the scowl on his face.

"Come on I'll take you to lunch. There's this new restaurant I want to try …apparently it's not just the food that's worth looking at!"

Brian's answer to heartbreak!

I laughed.

I could live with that at the moment.

"I'll just get cleaned up"

I went into the back, and threw cold water over my face, hoping to get rid of the puffiness around my eyes.

Looking in the mirror I couldn't see much improvement but decided what the hell!

"I'm ready….let's go"

I grabbed my keys and cell, just in case Ben rang, and followed him out the door.

The afternoon thankfully passed much faster. I finally got rid of all my customers and locked the door at 5pm.

I stopped at the market for a few groceries then hurried home looking forward to the warmth of our apartment but not the loneliness and silence that would greet me.

After throwing together something halfway palatable, and thinking if I didn't learn to cook a bit better I was going to starve to death, I settled onto the sofa, switched on the TV and lost myself in some mindless reality show until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.

Days alone became weeks alone.

I got up every morning, went to the store, came home.

The days never changed.

I missed Ben so much. It was like a physical ache which never left me.

Brian turned up more often than he used to when Ben was here.

I was thankful for the distraction. He nagged me to come to Babylon but I wasn't interested.

He roared with laughter when I told him I was thinking about going to cooking classes only shutting up when I actually made him dinner one night.

Then he thought it was a good idea.

I started the cooking classes. Two evenings a week.

They began as something to fill the empty hours but I soon found myself looking forward to them.

I came home with pages of recipes to try and felt an amazing amount of pride when something turned out to be not only edible but surprisingly good.

I couldn't wait till Ben came home so I could show off my new talents.

Everything I did or saw I squirreled away in the back of my mind to tell Ben.

He was always in my thoughts.

My belief he would return never faded.

I crossed the days he had been gone off the calendar each morning.

I tried not to count them, but sometimes, late at night, was unable to stop myself.

91 days.

It didn't sound much but felt like a lifetime.

Images of him always filled my mind, awake or asleep.

I ached when I remembered the way his body wrapped itself around mine when we made love, the smile when he saw me which always made my heart skip a beat, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the look on his face when he said he loved me.

Another grey day greeted me as I stepped onto the pavement.

I was running late, my previous nights sleep disturbed by dreams which were now forgotten but at the time frighteningly real. I had woken up shivering and cold in the early hours, reaching out for Ben, only to realize I was alone. I tossed and turned for hours before sleep came again.

I almost decided not to open the store today but the thought of being alone in the apartment would have done nothing to alleviate the dark mood that had taken hold of me in those fitful hours.

Brian turned up at lunch time.

My snappish answers drove him away after reassuring words and a hug.

I watched the clock tick by. Customers were sparse and by 4pm I had had enough.

I put up the closed sign, locked the door and trudged home through the icy wind and sprinkles of snow which had begun the moment I had walked out the door.

I climbed the stairs, thoughts of a warm bath and early night the only thing on my mind.

I looked up when I reached the top step and stopped dead in my tracks.

"Hello Michael"

Time seemed to stand still.

I had been playing this moment over and over in my mind since the day I had told him to leave.

Every version was different and they all flooded through my mind, tumbling over each other, as I stood staring at him.

He looked exactly the same as he had the day he left.

I didn't know why that surprised me.

The steroids had taken control of his mind, which in turn told his body that they were what he needed.

But he was still Ben.

Then and now.

Still the love of my life.

I knew I would have to be the one to make the first move.

I took a tentative step forward and then couldn't stop myself as I flew into his arms.

He hesitated for a moment before picking me up and hugging me so tightly I was left struggling for air but I didn't care.

He was back.

Words, explanations, questions and answers would come later.

I held him as if I would never let him go again, feeling the light come back into my life through the touch of his body, the feel of his breath on my skin.

I don't know how long we stood there lost in that moment. It seemed like forever but was probably only minutes. He loosened his grip and stood me back on my feet, his hands reaching out for mine, which I offered with no hesitation.

He turned my hand over, his eyes on the scar which was barely visible. He bought my hand to his lips, kissing that thin white jagged line as his eyes met mine. Pain and regret shone out of his eyes. I bought my fingers up, tracing them gently over his face, reassuring myself he was real.

He opened his mouth to speak but I brought my fingers to his lips silencing his words.

I didn't want words.

I just wanted to feast my eyes on him, hold him in my arms.

I reached out for his hand, threading my fingers through his as my other hand fumbled in my pocket for the key. I finally found it. With a shaking hand I unlocked the door and led him inside, kicking the door shut behind me with my foot.

He stopped, pulling me to a standstill, his eyes scanning the room, before coming to rest on me.

"Michael…"

"I know"

I dragged him to the bedroom, tugging at his jacket as I pulled my own coat off.

Our hands were fighting, struggling with each others clothes, wanting, needing that feeling of skin against skin like never before.

He stood before me naked, beautiful, his body still powerful but with the gentler curves that I had craved.

I walked into his arms, resting my head on his chest, arms wrapped around him, close to tears but holding them back.

Without losing contact we walked to the bed. He laid me down gently, his eyes never leaving my face.

I lay there, watching as his hands began a slow exploration of my body, gently covering every inch of my skin, not leaving an inch untouched. My nerve ends seemed to be doing a dance under my skin at every touch of his fingers. It was almost torture but the most beautiful torture I could imagine. Soft moans escaped my lips, small beads of sweat broke out over my body and I wondered how much more I could take.

He finally stopped and looked down at me, the smile I had been waiting so long to see on his lips.

He reached for a condom and guided himself slowly into me. I let out a gasp at the incredible rush of pleasure I felt at that moment.

We made love.

I thought it would be frantic after months of separation but it was slow, gentle, every movement savored. Bodies moving as one, no words exchanged or needed.

I reached up caressing his face before pulling him to me, finding his mouth, feasting on it like a starving man.

The pressure continued to build and when we came together his mouth was latched on mine swallowing my orgasm in his own.

We lay together, bodies wrapped in each others as we caught our breaths. I didn't want to let him go. I couldn't stop touching him, still having to reassure myself he was actually here and not part of some dream.

He moved onto his back, pulling me with him. I rested my head on his chest in that all too familiar position that belonged just to me. His hand held mine. I entwined my fingers with his.

He lifted my chin, his eyes scanning my face, full of love but I could see a slight tinge of sadness behind them.

"We need to talk"

His voice broke the silence.

"Where have you been?"

"I did what you could see I needed but I couldn't. I went to get help"

"Where?"

"I found a small drug abuse facility, out of town, that specialized in steroid abuse."

"It's been three months"

"That's how long the program was."

"I knew you would come back"

"I wasn't sure you would take me back."

"How could you even think that?"

"I hurt you terribly. I want to be able to take back every word and action that caused you so much pain but I can't."

"I shut you out, turning to steroids instead. I will never forgive myself for that. You were what I needed, not some drug that did no more than mask my anger at Paul, for dying, at myself for something that happened long ago and I could never change"

"I kept waiting for you to talk to me until I couldn't take any more. Telling you to go were the hardest words I have ever had to say"

"They were what I needed to hear. I have so much love and admiration for you for having the courage to say them"

"I was scared for you, for us. I love you and watching you destroy yourself and slowly rip apart what we had was more than I could stand."

"You are strong Michael, stronger than I will ever be. I know you don't believe that but it's true. No words can ever be enough to say how sorry I am for what happened. You gave me everything I needed, stood by me, no matter what I said or did, and I didn't deserve that"

"Ben…"

"Can you ever forgive me for what I did, the hurt and pain I caused you"

I looked up at him, his blue eyes dark with emotion, a mixture of fear waiting for my answer and love shining from them. I wondered for a moment if he knew just how much I loved him, how a future with him was what I craved and dreamt of from the minute I laid eyes on him.

"I need to know that if anything ever happens like this again that you will talk to me. I know you need to think things through, take time with decisions that need to be made. That is part of who you are"

I took a deep breath.

Would I be able to put the words together to say what had to be said.

"I told you from the beginning that I accepted any risks that came from us being together. I still do and always will. We are careful but accidents happen. If it did, the chances of me becoming infected are remote, I know that. I have read what do to if it ever happened. There are drugs available, antiretroviral medications, that would stop any infection occurring. But what you did, exposing me to it through drug abuse is different."

"Michael….."

"Listen! I can understand why you did it. You thought it was what you needed to get through Paul's death, thoughts of your own mortality closing in on you. But you have to promise me that it will never happen again. I will always be here for you, I need to know that is enough, that you will never turn to drugs again to solve problems. They are not the answer. Love is. And I love you"

I held my breath, waiting for his answer. I knew what it would be, but I needed to hear the words.

"I promise"


End file.
